


Sacrificial Bride

by darlingdisastrous



Category: Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (TV 2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Caliban is a bit of a power bottom, Demon Sex, Dubious Consent, F/M, Human Sacrifice, Innocent Reader, Masochism, Mildly Dubious Consent, Pain Kink, Power Bottom, Religious Conflict, Sex in the woods, Shameless Smut, Smut, Virgin Sacrifice, the village is messed up, thirsting for caliban
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-19
Updated: 2020-08-20
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:26:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25992100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darlingdisastrous/pseuds/darlingdisastrous
Summary: Your village is plagued by demons. Every Winter Solstice, fifteen virgins are selected to be sacrificed to these blood-thirsty creatures. This year, you are selected.
Relationships: Caliban (Chilling Adventures of Sabrina)/Reader
Comments: 5
Kudos: 94





	1. Chapter One

For centuries, winter had been a curse for your village. Withered crops, starvation, and the blistering cold were hard enough; they caused enough death as it was. But, no, that was not the worst thing the winter brought.

On the longest night of the year, in the dead of winter, demons roamed the land. They came to pillage, destroying everything in sight. They ransacked the village, and killed without cause. In the morning, the streets would be littered with ripped limbs and painted with blood. Those who survived counted their blessings and rebuilt the village in preparation for the next winter.

It took years for the villagers to strike a kind of bargain with the demons. The bargain was a sort of unspoken agreement, but the Hell-beings appreciated it nonetheless. A sacrifice of the highest honor, and in return the village was untouched.

And so a tradition was born: on the longest night, fifteen virgins were selected and sent to the woods, to be at the mercy of the demons. The recipients of this honor were known as ‘brides’; but the term was a mockery. There was no holy union between bride and demon, and as far as you were aware no bride had ever survived the night. There was only carnage and carnal desires inflicted onto their sacrifices.

It was natural to fear the longest night. Nearly every family in the village had a member who was selected as a bride, and how they were never seen again. Some families found pieces of their loved ones, and in a way that was lucky. Some never got the chance to know what became of their bride.

In your family, it was your uncle, taken from your mother’s family when she was young. Your mother never forgot watching him be dragged away as long as she lived.

The longest night was upon your village again, and the brides needed to be picked. It was your fifth year in a row entering.

“You have done what you can,” said your mother. She laid a thin shawl over your shoulders in a poor attempt to stop your shivering; but, you both knew it wasn’t from the cold. “All we can do is wait and pray to God …”

You took her hand. “It will be alright. We have been lucky thus far.”

A poor attempt at humor, but you tried it anyway. Mother didn’t laugh, but she managed a small, watery smile. It was gone in an instant and she walked away to be with your father. Your smile dropped and you stared into the fire. A knot formed in your stomach.

Yes, you’d been lucky thus far, however it didn’t mean that luck could change. There was no age limit on being a bride. Everyone, from the age of thirteen to eighty-three was a candidate. It was no wonder the girls in your village tried to marry early or, at the very least, fornicate with one another.

You might’ve, too; but, the risk of pregnancy from a union outside of marriage, even in these circumstances, was shameful.

“The witching hour is almost upon us.” Your father peered out the window. He dropped the threadbare curtain and smiled. “They have not come for you. I do believe it is safe to assume that this is not not your year.”

You should have been comforted by this, but the knot in your stomach didn’t go away. It was just the night, you consoled yourself, everyone was on edge about this night. All those poor families who lost someone… 

And then the knocks came. Everyone froze. Maybe you’d all imagined it? They came again, heavy and loud, the sound resonating through your small home. Your heart stuttered to a halt.

Your father went pale, his earlier congratulations now hung stale in the air. At first, nobody moved. It didn’t seem real. It was your mother who finally moved. She set her jaw and squared her shoulders as the door opened, showing no weakness to the village elders.

They were harbingers of death, and looked like death themselves. Each one was older than the last, with baggy skin and crooked fingers, to the point they seemed more like corpses rather than humans.

Elder Angelo spoke, his voice as wobbly as his neck. “We truly are sorry.” He extended his hand to you. “It is time for us to collect the bride.”

You unconsciously moved forward, the knot in your stomach twisting so tight you felt sick. But, this wasn’t the time for emotion, you wanted your family to remember you strong.

Before you crossed the threshold, Elder Cecil held up a knobby hand. “You may … say goodbye to your family. Quickly, though. The witching hour is nigh and we are expected in the forest.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat. It would have been so much better if they simply whisked you away; because, now, you couldn’t hide your tears. You couldn't pretend to be strong.

Your father latched himself onto you, squeezing you tight into his chest as if he could simply absorb you into himself so you couldn’t leave. He whispered that he loved you, and pried himself away so you wouldn’t see his tears. And then, there was your mother. She, too, tried to keep a brave face but you could see it cracking.

She held your shoulders firmly. “Be strong, my sweet.” She leaned down and kissed your forehead and let go.

One of the elders laid his hand upon your arm and gave you a gentle tug. “It is time, child.”

You followed them with your head held high, and pretended that you weren’t sobbing. 

  
—

The fourteen brides stood waiting at the edge of the forest. They stood there, trembling, holding on to one another for comfort. The three elders arrived with you in tow.

A part of you wanted to run—you’re certain everyone did—but you all knew the consequences. Running from the sacrifice was punishable by death. The elders didn’t take kindly to deserters.

So, the fifteen of you trudged through the forest; a place where no one went of their own volition, a place of beasts and witches. No one could hear you scream in these woods. No one wanted to hear.

The group reached the clearing, which was at the heart of the woods. A small boy, maybe fifteen, clung to your arm for support. The wind howled like a beast, the wind shook the trees.

“Thank you all for the sacrifice you are making,” said Elder Lorenzo. He folded his hands together and bowed to the group, the other elders following suit. “It will not be forgotten.”

In the distance, the bells began to toll. The elders didn’t wait another moment and hurried out of the woods.

“I don’t want to be here,” whispered one girl.

An old spinster snapped at her, “None of us want to be here.”

“Suppose we all have a quick fuck,” said a boy. “They won’t want us then, right?”

You shook your head. “I don’t think it matters if we’re virgins or not. They want to kill us anyway.” 

The last bell chimed and your talk died out. The woods went deathly silent. There was no more wind, nor creatures howling; nothing but the deafening sound of silence.

After a couple of minutes, a girl spoke, “What happens now?”

Her question was answered by a loud, unearthly growl. Suddenly, the girl began to scream, but it was cut short as a clawed hand punched through her chest, leaving a bloody gaping hole. You aren’t sure who made the first move, or if the decision was made as a whole; but all at once chaos erupted.

You were pushed and pulled every which way by the mob of brides until you were trampled underfoot.

The growls filled the woods, a chorus of unholy Hell-brings overflowed until it was deafening to the ears. They came from above and below, from all around. No place was safe.

A hoard of demons appeared in a rain of hell fire. They feasted on the poor girl’s flesh, ripping her limb from limb until all that was left was a bloody pulp. Fear seized your body.

“I … smell … flesh,” one of them growled.

You pushed off of the dirt and ran. You didn’t know where you were going, only that you had to flee. A demon lunged at you, but you were quick and avoided it’s capture, slipping into the coverage of the trees. Some of the underbrush caught your nightgown and tore at the seams. Your skin ached, no doubt earning a couple of scratches along the way.

The shrieks and howls were louder, now. Your fellow brides were screaming in agony but there was nothing you could do. It was every man for himself.

An arm—if what you saw could be classified by an arm, it looked more beastial than anything—shot out from behind a tree and grabbed a hold of you. The wind was knocked out of your lungs and you landed with a short cry.

“Why try and run mortal?” The demon’s voice was more of a growl, his words echoing throughout the wood. “You know it’s futile. You are weak and I am strong. Death is imminent. But even still, don’t stop on my account. I love it when they struggle.”

“Please.” It was the only thing you could think to say. You scrambled back, twigs digging into your spine and shredding your gown up the back. “Please, no.”

The demon bound towards you, his steps shaking the earth, leering at you with it’s corpse-like face and sharp teeth.

This was it, you realized. There was no bartering with the Hell-beings, they had no soul and no sense of morality. This was the last thing you would ever see. You bumped into a boulder, which prevented you from going any further. You squeezed your eyes shut and braced for the end.

Only it never came. The demon cried out, the sound strained, as if he was in real pain. You peeked through your eyelashes. What you saw was … not what you expected. The demon was no longer there, only a pile of ash in its place. But, the greater surprise was who took his place.

You didn’t recognize him as a member of your unfortunate group. You didn’t recognize him at all.

The man couldn’t’ve been a demon, he was far too pretty. No, not pretty—beautiful. Godly. A flowing white shirt made of lace hung from his body, unbuttoned and sheer. Long, curling locks of gold framed his face, which seemed to be sculpted by God himself. All you could do was stare.

“Are you an angel?” The words left your mouth in a hushed whisper.

The man’s eyes flashed dangerously. “Is it your intention to insult me, mortal?”

His voice was beautiful as well. Even angry, the voice was musical, like velvet on your ears. You couldn’t help but feel ashamed of your ignorance.

“No … no.” You pushed off of the boulder behind you and stood on shaky legs. “You do not seem like a demon.” His lips twisted into a frown. “You’re too beau—I mean… You’re nothing like them.”

His rose-petal lips parted, as if he finally understood. The corners of his lips turned upwards, almost teasingly. “Ah. You think I’m beautiful?” You lowered your head shyly. That was all the confirmation he needed. “That’s nothing to be ashamed of, my lady. You flatter me with your pretty words.”

Your face flushed. My lady. Your heart thundered in your chest. Despite the shrieks that came from all around you, of your schoolmates and friends being torn to pieces, you couldn’t help but feel safe in his presence.

“You saved me,” you breathed. “Thank you.”

“Saved you?” he echoed.

“From the demon.” Had he really forgotten? Or, was he just being modest? “He was going to … Well, it doesn’t matter anymore. How can I repay you, sir?”

The man’s smile widened; but, it was not a smile of kindness. His eyes were filled with mirth. “I fear you are mistaken, fair maiden. I destroyed that demon for purely selfish reasons. Nothing more.”

“But—you—”

“What is it you think I am?” He stalked forward until he was mere feet away. You tried to step back, but your heel caught the rough stone, and you fell back onto your rear.

“I don’t know,” you said. His beauty was almost threatening. What was he doing out in the woods on the night the Hell-beings feasted. “What’s your name, sir?”

“Names have power. You cannot expect me to give mine over so easily.” The man came closer and knelt down in front of you, so you were eyelevel. The heat of his chest warming your chilled flesh. “And you didn’t answer my question, my lady.”

You were trembling, now. He laid his large hand covered your knee, making you conscious of the tears in your gown.

“How about you tell me.”

His gaze gleamed in the moonlight, as if the stars themselves had been placed within his eyes. “Since you asked so prettily … I am Caliban, Prince of Hell, made of clay. A demon. And you, my lady, are my sacrifice.”


	2. Chapter Two

“A … A demon?” You clutched your chest, fearing your heart would give out at any moment. “Prince of Hell?”

No. _No_. It wasn’t possible he was one of those beasts. How could he be? Demons were supposed to be garish monsters, so hideous that their sins showed on their face. But, not him. He was so beautiful it hurt. How could he be a being of pure evil?

It was all too much. You swooned and slipped off the rock.

The beautiful demon—Caliban, he called himself—caught you before you smashed into the dirt. His hands were like a vice. No matter how hard you squirmed it would make no difference. You weren’t going anywhere. Caliban wouldn’t allow it.

“Now, now, my lady. Why so scared?” He pouted mockingly. “And here I thought you _liked_ me?”

Shame colored your cheeks for admitting such a thing. “What will you do to me?”

If he was a demon like the rest, he must share their infernal appetites—their lust for destruction. There was no way he would leave you alive.

Caliban ran his hands along your bare arms, as some strange semblance of comfort. “Something I’ll no doubt enjoy. You may think it beastly, little virgin; but, it could be pleasurable for you as well…”

“Pleasurable?”

He hummed, lifting his hands to stroke your cheek. “If you behave. You could always disregard the kindness I’ve extended to you and run away. I love a good chase as much as the next demon; however, my patience is thin and I may be forced to _tear into you_.”

His voice lowered dangerously. His feather-light touch became harsh, digging his blunt nails into the meet of your cheek. Caliban laughed at your misery. “But, I believe you’re a good girl, little virgin. Why else would you be out here if you weren’t? And because of that, I know you will do as I say.”

You swallowed thickly. “I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

Oh, but you did. There had to be a way to get out of this unscathed—luck had brought you this far into the night, maybe it would allow you to see the sun once more?

Caliban’s eyes flashed, “Play a game with me. You want to live, don’t you?” You nodded, but he did not appreciate that. He caught you by your chin. “I need to hear your words.”

“Yes.” You couldn’t meet his eyes. “Yes, I want to live.”

“Very good.” Caliban pulled you to your feet. You were consciously aware of how close you were to his chest. “We shall play. If you win, my lady, you gain your freedom and I’ll make sure no demons come after you or your little mortal village. If I win…” He cut himself off with a chuckle.

You waited and waited, but he never finished. It left you on edge, that knowing smile on his lips. “What will you do?”

“Perhaps it’s best you not know,” he said. “It’ll be a surprise for when I win.”

Your stomach dropped like a stone. That wasn’t an answer. You might’ve told him that, but the feeling of his hands gliding across your body made your words die in your throat.

He came closer, brushing his nose across the sensitive skin of your ear. The heat that radiated off of him was too much. What sort of magic was he using to make you feel like this? Caliban’s lips touched your ear, “Run.”

The spell was broken. You opened your eyes—when had you closed them?—and stared at him with confusion. Caliban gave you a sharp shove and you tumbled off the edge of the boulder. He towered over you, looking more menacing than ever before.

“I said: _run_.”

That time, you listened. You took off in some direction, your only hope being that the demons were nowhere near you.

The village was somewhere, lost to you, your sense of direction had been warped from the first moment the sacrifice started. Your best hope was to keep running and reach the edge of the forest.

Demons all around you snarled and gnashed their teeth. Some jumped at the chance to pursue you—the last living prey—while others simply watched with their beady eyes.

Your feet barely touched the ground, adrenaline overtaking you completely. _Don’t look back_ , you reminded yourself. Nothing good was behind you. What you sought was ahead. Somewhere.

Behind you, the demons began to scream. Some of them yelped like wounded dogs. The woods were filled with the stench of burnt flesh. _Don’t look back, don’t look back—_

Against your better judgement, you looked back. All you saw was smoke, the woods choked with the black smog, cloaking where you’d once been. There were no demons in sight. The forest had gone silent.

You turned back around, pushing yourself to run faster. Moonlight shone through the bare branches, lighting the path for you. The trees began to thin out, the underbrush not so dense. Was that an opening up ahead?

Suddenly, a swirl of hell fire appeared before you, and Caliban appeared in all his glory. He opened his arms, like he was welcoming you.

You couldn’t stop yourself in time and smacked into his chest. His arms wrapped around your torso, like iron bands, halting your from going any further. The illusion of freedom slipped through your fingers like sand.

“You put up quite the fight, my lady.” Caliban pressed close, his mouth against your ear. “Unfortunately, it wasn’t good enough.”

“You cheated.” You struggled against him, squirming away enough to glare up at him. “I would have won.”

He snorted, “Of course you would’ve.”

It irked you how patronizing he sounded.

“It’s true.” You continued to struggle against him, if only to piss him off.

Caliban sat you down on your feet again, but he would not release you. “Love, are you under the impression that you were able to freely through this demon infested forest because of luck? How adorably naive. Only because of me, you got as far as you did without being some poor devil’s _fuck-corpse_.”

He planned this from the very beginning. You never would’ve won. How could you—you were only human.

Caliban watched realization dawn on you, despair taking the place of anger, and he bit his lip. “We played a game, you agreed to my terms. I won. Don’t be a spoilsport.”

Caliban swept your legs out from underneath your body and laid you on the muddy ground. He smoothed his hands over what was left of your gown. You pressed your legs together in a vain attempt to keep him out.

“I understand. I’m sorry—what have you earned as your prize,” you said. Maybe if you could keep him talking he’d forget about this. “Tell me, Caliban, what do I owe you?”

“You say my name so sweetly, mortal.” He eyed the cuts and scrapes along your legs, ones you earned from this hunt, and ran his palm along them. “Say it again.”

“Caliban—”

“ _Prince_ Caliban,” he corrected you.

So, you tried again. “Prince Caliban, you haven’t answered my question.”

You shivered as he dragged his blunt fingernails across your bare legs, bunching up the ragged nightgown until it lay around your waist. He smiled upon seeing your bare womanhood spread apart for him. He devoured you with his eyes, looking more and more like the predator he claimed to be.

It was shameful. No man had ever seen you in such a state. No man had ever touched you the way Caliban touched you. Maybe if you’d let them, you wouldn’t be in this situation.

Finally, he looked up at you and met your gaze. “You asked what you owe me. My lady, you owe me your everything. I want your body and mortal soul. I want to devour you.” Caliban crawled over top of you, settling himself between your parted thighs. “I want … you to say _yes_ to me.”

At this, you frowned. After all his talk, he wanted something so simple. And so, you couldn’t help but repeat him, “… Yes?”

All at once, change came over him, like a dark cloud covering the sun. He made a low, animalistic growl and crushed those perfect lips of his against your own.

You wanted to say you hated it—you wished you hated it; but, you didn't. You moaned, the sound tearing from your throat with out restraint. An unnatural heat pooled in your stomach, making you throb in places you didn’t dare think of.

You might’ve been able to quell the heat on your own had Caliban not started moving against you. His hips ground against your most private area. You gasped and pushed his chest. The feeling he was eliciting was foreign, and it frightened you.

Caliban laughed breathlessly at your struggle. “There’s no stopping this, love. Just give into me.”

“No.” He kissed you harder, almost like he was trying to swallow your voice. “I don’t like it. What are you doing?”

When he pulled away, his cheeks were flushed red and his lips swollen. You tried to sit up as well, but he quickly snatched your hands into his own, pinning you to the dirt. “No, you won’t like it; I guarantee you’ll _love_ it.”

He reached down and untied his breeches, freeing his manhood. You couldn’t see it, and part of you was grateful for that. But, even though you couldn’t see it, you could _feel it_. Your eyes went wide.

Caliban rubbed his length between your folds. Your heart thundered in your ears—why did it feel _good_?

You knew you should fight him—that you should find some way to make him _stop_ ; but a part of you didn’t care. If these were the last few hours of your life, what did it matter? Caliban could’ve killed you if he wanted to. Wasn’t this the better alternative?

“I must confess, my lady…” His cockhead pressed against your maidenhood and you gasped. “I have never been with a mortal before.” With one, fierce thrust, he sheathed himself inside of you completely. It was worse than you imagined, much worse. You screamed, your insides tearing from the harsh intrusion. “Nor have I ever laid with a virgin. I’m not accustomed to the delicacy that one requires.”

You didn’t think he wanted to know, either.

He moved rough and uncaring within you, hammering into your body as if there were no tomorrow. The pain was excruciating. Hot tears streamed down your cheeks without restraint. Incoherent pleas fell from your lips, begging him to stop; but, Caliban went harsher. Your cries made him more eager.

Suddenly, he flipped the two of you completely. He his hand cemented you against him, keeping your bodies connected as much as possible. You fell onto his chest, the pain in your core too bad to bare.

This position was much worse. He shifted inside you, sinking you down on him until he was buried to the hilt. Caliban groaned, tossing his head back. The thick column of his throat commanded your attention, watching as the veins flexed pleasurably.

"Take it," Caliban said through clenched teeth. "You know you want to."

" _I don't want anything_!"

"Use me," Caliban demanded. "I've claimed your body, you want revenge. Take it out on me."

"No—"

"Do it."

"Please!"

" _Do it_!"

"I _can't_!" Caliban locked eyes with you, anger rolling off him in waves. "I don't ... I don't know _how_. I can't move."

It killed you to feel so vulnerable—especially when he was giving power back to you. No, you couldn't do it. Pure agony encompassed you, not even harming him could make you feel pleasure.

Caliban seemed to understand this. He took your chin between his thumb and forefinger, forcing you to look at him. And then, he kissed you. It wasn't anything like the first one, which had been hungry. No, this kiss was hateful. Your tears slipped between your lips, but Caliban relished in them.

The hand still holding your hip guided you to make circles against his body. You moved with him and the pace gradually became harsher, until the two of you were rutting against one another. The pain was still there—still all too prevalent—however ... a new sensation began to worm its way inside you. Something akin to that tickle you felt before.

Caliban pressed his forehead to yours, panting against your lips. "Faster. There ... gnn ... Like that ... Like you _hate_ me—!”

Your fingers dug into his flesh, scoring ragged red lines down his chest. It only made him moan louder, his member throbbing within you.

“Caliban ... please.” You didn’t know what you were begging for, or what you wanted. _Please_ just sounded right.

“You do this quite well, for a _virgin_." He laughed breathlessly. "Are you there, yet? Can you feel yourself breaking?"

You didn't know what you felt. Your body felt like one, big, exposed nerve. The sensations were almost too much to bare. You cried but you couldn't tell why. You wanted to get away from the sensation; yet, at the same time, you wanted more of it.

Suddenly, Caliban cried out. His hips stuttered to a halt, pushing as deep into you as he could. Something filled your womb, painting your aching walls. His eyes closed in bliss and he relaxed back on the dirt.

He released you entirely. You hadn’t realized how much he’d supported you until that moment. You collapsed onto his chest, feeling strangely frustrated and unsatisfied.

Neither of you spoke for the longest time. You'd almost thought he fell asleep until he eased you off and onto the dirt beside him. "Tell me something, my lady, have you ever touched yourself?"

"I don't ... Of course I touch myself. Everyone does." You fiddled with your soiled nightgown. "I mean, I have to dress myself and bathe and—"

Caliban rolled onto his side, propping himself up with his elbow. "That isn't the sort of touching I meant."

"Then what...?"

He reached over, slipping his hand beneath the hem of your gown and palmed your womanhood. Your breath caught in your throat. His finger slipped along your slit, swirling his leaking seed around your flesh, up and up until ...

"C-Caliban?" You grabbed his wrist, caught between stopping him and pulling him closer.

He smiled woolfishly. "Ah ... I was right. What a good, pious life you've lead up until now."

"Cali ... _Caliban_. What are you ... haa ... What are you doing?"

Whatever he was touching made you quiver. You'd never known your body to have something so ... so _sensitive_ attached to it. Perhaps he was using some kind of devil magic? He had to be.

He dragged his hand back to your hole and eased two fingers inside. It was so different from his manhood, the way he rubbed you—

“Ngh!”

"What's the matter? I can't quite understand you when you moan like that." He crooked his fingers and your back arched off the ground. "Say my name."

You felt as if you could get enough air. Breathlessly, you said, "Caliban."

"Again." He thrust his fingers faster.

"Caliban!"

His eyes remained transfixed on where his hand met your core. "That's it. Let these lowly demons hear your ecstasy. Let them know who is doing it to you."

" _Caiban_!"

Stars exploded before your eyes and the coil in you core snapped. Your body convulsed. So this ... this was what true bliss was. Caliban wouldn’t stop touching you. His fingers worked against you even faster than before. Your hips lifted from the ground.

When it was finally over, you collapsed against the ground. Your whole body felt light, almost as if you were floating. You could have died there and been happy.

Caliban pulled his hand away, licking his fingers clean of your combined essence. "Thank you for your sacrifice, my lady."

With a wave of his hand, a shell appeared in his grasp. Caliban laid it on your heaving chest, between your breasts. It was no bigger than the size of your palm and cool to the touch.

You laid your hand over it, feeling the smooth plains and rigid edges. “What is this for?”

“A pretty token, for my lady. You can keep it as remembrance of the night.” Caliban laid his hand over your own in an almost loving manner. “Or, should you wish to repeat our night ... shatter the shell and I shall come to you.”

And then, he was gone. A swirl of hell-fire swallowed him up, leaving you alone in the forest. You stared at the sky and noticed for the first time that it was pink with the dawn.


End file.
